Transformations
by Ryuuko1
Summary: Things started changing for Sam after the battle of Giza...
1. Escapes

**Author**: This is one of my odder ideas...ah, well. We'll see how it goes.

**Disclaimer**: Transformers mine is not.

---

It was one of my more dangerous assignments. Well, perhaps not _dangerous_, but certainly more _difficult._

I stood in the shadow of a security officer, he completely unaware of my presence. Then again, without breathing to alert him to another's presence, I hoped he'd remain ignorant for the duration of the meeting. As I recorded the proceedings with every sense available to me, I was given time to think.

I'm not particularly liked among my comrades. No, they're not really _comrades._ Those-I-work-with? A long descriptor, but an apt one. There are a number of reasons to my unpopularity, but the main one is my function:

I am a spy. Intel. Skulking around in shadowed places, picking up information that will be useful later on, while doing so without guns blazing or direct confrontation. I am seen as cowardly, weak, and frequently compared to some of the less favorable qualities of our SIC. I've never really cared, though, as long as I'm supported by the only one whose opinion _really_ matters. They can talk all they want behind my back, but never around _him—_he'd have them down so fast it wouldn't be funny.

Well, it _would_ be funny, but that's unimportant.

The proceedings felt deliberately slow and only the knowledge of the reprimand I would receive if I didn't pay close attention and stick it out through the entire boring thing kept me there. My boredom was vindicated by the security guard stifling a yawn. He obviously found it as tedious as I did.

Eventually, the meeting wrapped up with an unfortunate decision to continue talks the next day. _That_ meant I had to stay here _longer_, which was a _pain_. I made myself inconspicuous, making sure my cloaking device was working. I slipped out behind the last dignitary's body guard, my steps easily erased by the heavy trod of the others. I allowed myself to take a long, quiet breath—I was able to hold my breath for much longer than most, but I still needed to breathe, for the most part.

Now, to escape, which would be much harder than I would have liked.

With the introduction of Cybertronians to Earth, people had become paranoid, and so had developed ways of detecting if a metal was, well, for lack of a better term, _alive_. Cybertronian metal and Terran metal had slight differences, and one company or another had created a device that could detect such differences.

As _my_ body wasn't _entirely_ Cybertronain, I had it a little easier. It was...not uncommon for people to keep shards of Cybertronian metal they found on them, either for "good luck" or morbid curiosity was up to debate. However, I had just a _little_ too much for it to be discounted as a trinket.

I discovered, at that point, that they had also managed to create EM pulses that short out Cybertronian circuitry, just as a double check for, you know, safety. My cloak dissipated and I had just enough time to start running before guns started firing. Sometimes, my bad luck from my earlier days still stuck to me, which made my life..._interesting._ The security still wouldn't be able to tell who or what I was, considering I was still on my feet and was clothed entirely in black, face and all. My eyes were visored as their glow occasionally gave me away.

Bullets pinged uncomfortably close to my heels. I risked a look back before swearing softly.

I am abnormally fast, but I still can't beat cars. Thankfully, I _am_ abnormally strong and have a few tricks up my sleeves.

I whirled to face them and slammed my fists as hard as possible on the ground. The ground reacted in much the same way as it would to be a running Cybertronian's footfall—it splintered and the tremor made it difficult to drive. It gave me a few seconds to find a place to hide, I shutting down all of my unnecessary functions—which meant I killed the majority of what was powered by my spark. An organic-being wouldn't register on their metallic-being sensors.

I moved quietly, carefully, keeping my head down and keeping careful track of where all the others were. I ran up against a blockade and swore inwardly. Humans could be quite coordinated when they tried. Knowing that it would take more time and ingenuity to escape the 'secure location' than I might have, I sent all the information I had gathered along a secure line that only _I_ knew of, making sure not to miss the smallest bit. The information dump also wiped what memories I had of the proceedings, which was good in case they actually _did_ catch me. I truly was ignorant of what had occurred.

I had _finally_ found an escape route when I was discovered. My armor—both what I was wearing and what was natural to me—was strong, but not strong enough to shake off what I was facing. So I stood and raised my hands, surrendering until a more opportune time.

I made no move when they approached me, let them search me for any kind of weaponry (I don't carry any because it weighs me down, and if I get caught...well, it's easier to wait for an escape than try to muscle my way out—and I _always_ find a way to escape). I went with them placidly, walking as quickly as they did to a holding cell. It was maximum security, considering what everything was made of—things that were resistant to even Cybertronian weaponry and strength. They watched my every move, when I made one, and were obviously surprised when I let them strip-search me. I had nothing to hide, and with my Cybertronian functions suppressed, I appeared to be nothing more than just a human. I had forgotten which face I was wearing, but it was apparently bland and common enough that it could have belonged to any member of the general American populace.

My skin was soft and warm, and nothing about me spoke of me being anything other than a sneaky human. They put me in new clothes, clothes I could conceal nothing in, and then left me in my cell, a video camera watching me intently, sleeplessly.

I sighed heavily and sat down on the floor, examining my hands. Technically, my mission had been a success. He would be pleased with me, as would our leader. I couldn't remember a shred of what had happened in that chamber, but had a feeling that it was, well, important. Still, it was best that I knew nothing of what had occurred.

I sat in that cell for 3 hours, 27 minutes, and 17 seconds when the door opened. Two human soldiers entered and I stood, holding out my wrists for them. They were surprised at my willingness, but placed the heavy handcuffs on me nonetheless. I was confined between them and was brought to what I recognized from television military/police dramas as an inquisition room. I sat in the chair and placed my bound hands on the table, my fingers lacing together neatly.

An officer of some sort sat before me as two stood guard at the door.

"What is your name?" he asked quietly, in a gruff voice that brooked no argument.

I had heard worse. I remained silent.

He continued to barrage me with questions: Who are you working for? Where did you come from? Why were you here? How much did you see/hear? Etc, etc. I remained silent throughout, mutely observing the man, the room, the guards, and those standing behind the two-way mirror.

Another person came and questioned me, the same questions, just different phrasing. He tried to bargain with me, but what can he give me that I don't already have?

Eventually, I was led back to my cell, and sat there, resting my forearms on my knees, my head on my forearms. I had a plan. It would get me out of here without any violence. In studying the video mechanism in my cell as well as in the interrogation room, I had figured out a way to manipulate the data stream. It would require onlining a few of my Cybertronian systems, but I couldn't see how that would be a problem. My cloaking device was internal, and as long as I stayed away from sources of high electromagnetic fields, I could use it without worry.

I sat up straighter and leaned against the wall, my hands placed on the floor behind my back. The palms of my hands returned to their normal metallic state, and manipulating a little radiation, I tapped into the wiring beneath me. I closed my eyes so I could concentrate better. My consciousness rode along the current until I found the branch point where it went to the camera. I manipulated the device so it showed the same image constantly, but allowed the time-stamp to change. I allowed my mind to snap back to its normal housing and stood quietly. I placed my hands on the wall where the panel was and exerted the tiniest bit of energy to get the door to open just enough for me to barely squeeze through. I activated my cloaking device before exiting, and scrapped myself a little, but it wasn't anything that wouldn't become part of the metal surrounding it or be healed when I allowed my skin to return to its usual state.

I padded silently down the hallways, my breath inaudible in the silence. I finally found my way to a door that was purely physically locked. With a small amount of effort, I got in. As I had remembered, it was a supply closet. I took a few deep breaths before allowing my Cybertronian systems to come back online. I changed my face and body and, with slightly more effort, changed the clothes to something more suitable. Thankfully, very little aside from the color had to be changed. When I exited the storage closet, I looked every bit like a janitor. I had even mimicked the fingerprints that I had found on the broom handle.

What people see every day, they overlook, and I was out of the 'secure location' by 15 minutes before they discovered that I was gone.

–

I had been told to stay throughout however long the summit took, so I was unable to return to my home yet. Because of that, I needed to find a different way of accessing the information. I tapped my fingers against my thigh as I sat in the apartment I had for myself whenever I came to this part of the Earth. I wouldn't be able to enter the way I had before, so I needed something else. There were no video cameras in the conference room where talks were being held, so I couldn't hack those. No computers near there either. Then, what...?

My eyebrows rose as an idea dawned on me. All of the bodyguard personnel had radio transmitters/receivers of some sort on them—it was the way they communicated with their colleagues. It wouldn't be _too_ difficult to find those frequencies, whether or not they were on a secure line. There _were_ no secure lines—not for those like me. Not with the skills I possessed.

I took a deep breath and settled myself comfortably on my couch. This would take every ounce of concentration I had, and _one_ slip could alert whomever I ended up with knowing that something was up.

It took an hour and a half for me to finally zone in on the signal I was looking for, but it didn't take much to sustain the contact.

I had, thankfully, ended up with an English-speaking bodyguard, so I didn't have to worry about translating. It was a little warbled, but I could still get all of the auditory information possible. It wasn't as much as I would have liked, but there was little I could do.

This meeting, thankfully, was conclusive, and I withdrew my concentration once it had finished. I was shaking slightly and drenched in sweat, but that was a side effect of my weakness and my strength. I sent all the new information I had gathered away to where it would be safer and sighed, sustaining the connection.

**May I return yet?** I asked, keeping the whine out of my voice. He would say 'no' if I appeared ungrateful.

**You have another mission.**

_So soon?_ I thought despairingly.

**You will meet up with Tailwind.**

My eyebrows rose slowly. A new Seeker had arrived? I had met all of Starscream's lackeys, but this one was new to me. **Where?** I asked instead.

A set of coordinates came to me and I confirmed them before standing and stretching, my body having gotten stiff in my concentration. I rolled my shoulders and picked up some clothes and a towel—I would take a shower, get some nourishment, and then move on. There was no use hanging around in a place where I could get caught, and I, apparently, had a new mission to fulfill.

I slung my clothes and towel over the towel rack before stepping into the shower, turning it on as hot as it could get.

My life was weird. Really, really, ridiculously weird. I looked at my hands, smiling faintly. Right then, I was in my more-or-less organic form, since that was the one that got the dirtiest.

Saying that, I suppose an explanation is in order.

My name is Samuel James Witwicky, but I go by Screen most of the time now. Afterall, Sam was a human hero—I, however, am very much not. Sam was also human. I, again, am not.

Well, that's not entirely true. I am _partly_ human. Most of my body is still organic—I have organs and everything, blood still circulates through my veins, and so on. However, I _also_ carry a _Spark._ As such, I also have some Cybertronian qualities. In order to protect itself, the Spark has turned my bones and chitin to some kind of lightweight Cybertronian metal alloy. It has also created a fine layer of a different, more supple alloy that rests neatly on top of my skin. It's strange enough that I can manipulate the molecules to allow either the metal or organic material to be the outer covering of my body. The metal, admittedly, is flesh-colored, so it doesn't look _that_ different...

'Why are you called Screen, then?' you may wonder. 'Why are you familiar with the 'cons?'

_That's_...a little more complicated.

I am currently working as a Decepticon intelligence agent, keeping us just one step ahead of the 'bots. They still haven't figured out how we're doing it—it wouldn't occur to them that a human could be helping the 'cons. I'm not sure _why_ I'm called Screen, though—you'd have to take that up with Soundwave.

You see, I _belong_ to Soundwave.

Apparently, not long after the battle of Giza, he caught me and Bumblebee unaware, in order to get revenge for the deaths of Ravage and Frenzy. It was then, when he was about to kill me, that he discovered two _very_ interesting things:

1) I possess a Spark.

2) I'm a _Prime._

What better revenge than to have a Prime beholden to him? What better recompense that he claim my just barely formed spark as his own, to make me one of _his_ creations, like Frenzy and Ravage? At that point—somehow—he managed to lay claim to my spark. He wrote himself into the very core of my being, and since the spark was only _just_ forming, it would be hidden and assumed to be an natural quirk in its radiation. Then, when my spark had developed fully and the time was right...he'd come and claim me. Claim his very own pet Prime.

'Why don't you fight against it?' you may ask. 'Surely if you told the Autobots they'd find a way to undo it.'

See, here's the problem—he _literally_ has claim to _my soul._ I can't un-write Soundwave's mark, as that would necessarily involve killing myself, which I have no desire to do. Anyway, it...feels _good_ to be in his presence. It's like...he's father, brother, and lover all at once, which sounds really weird and really _wrong_, but...there's no good way to explain it.

I am loyal to Soundwave, and as Soundwave is loyal to Megatron, so am I. Should Megatron be truly and finally offlined, I'm pretty sure Soundwave'll break from the Decepticons if only because he can't _stand_ Starscream.

What'll I do then? Hells if I know, but, for now, I'm a Decepticon recon agent.

I started this story because I'm _tired_ of carrying around all my memories. I don't want to remember the feel of Mikaela's lips, the warmth of my mom's arms squeezing the air out of me, the strange bond Bee and I shared. It's easier that way. But, as I don't want _all_ record of my former life wiped, I figured that the internet would be as good a place as any to put my story. That way, once it's all written, I can...forget. But, if I ever _do_ have a bout of nostalgia, I can go back and read it.

Who knows, maybe I'll get some good reviews on my story, since I _am_ posting this under fanfiction. We'll see.

I started in the middle, because the middle brings me to the beginning, which will take me to the end.

Now, where was I...?

Right.

The hot shower felt good on my tired muscles—running is hard work, and its even harder work to move _quietly._ I carefully washed my hair and body before turning off the water, resting my forehead gently against the tile.

_What do I know about Tailwind?_ I wondered before straightening, moving the curtain that concealed my shower and stepping onto the tile, water running in rivulets down the planes of my body. I took the towel off the rack and briskly dried myself.

As I changed into new clothes, I finally came to the conclusion that I knew next to nothing about Tailwind. His name indicated that he was a Seeker, but I knew nothing about his personality or history or strengths or weaknesses or...you get the drift. He was a dangerous unknown, but I guessed that Soundwave probably told the Seeker equally little about me, if anything at all. Soundwave wouldn't send me into battle, though, so whatever the mission was, it was _probably_ some sort of reconnaissance or intel.

I couldn't imagine one of Starscream's doing intel work, but not all Seekers were Starscream's.

I hoped.

Still, it was unwise to keep any 'con waiting unless you could match them in strength, which I sure as hell couldn't.

I packed a small bag, put my wallet in my back pocket, closed and locked my door behind me, and then headed out into the world, into another mission.


	2. Intel Work

**Author:** Mm...second chapter. Tailwind is NOT an OC. He is an actual canon character. I swear.

**Disclaimer:** I wish, I really do.

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I triple checked the coordinates and sighed. I hoped that this Seeker was better than the others I'd run across. Skywarp in particular had touched a few nerves, and only his ability to teleport had saved him from Soundwave's retaliations.

One day, I'll catch the _pest_ when he's asleep and find out what exactly gives him that frustrating ability before scrapping it _so damn hard._

Anyway.

I sat down in the middle of the abandoned airfield, looking up at the sky. There were times I envied the Seekers for their ability to skim the clouds, but the general personality traits that seemed to come with being a Seeker turned me off from that idea quickly enough.

I closed my eyes and opened my mind to the web of information constantly flying in the air. Billions of conversations were open to me, wireless internet mine for the taking. Radio transmissions, encrypted information, nothing was beyond my reach.

It was in this way that I was able to detect the flier approaching me. Fliers have a unique flavor to their spark-signature, and a comparison of the spark-signature I was registering to the database I had of all the Decepticons—courtesy of Soundwave and necessity—identified the jet as Tailwind. I stood and allowed my skin to harden into its Cybertronian matte metal. Just in case.

Tailwind arrived abruptly, pulling up quickly and dropping to the ground, his feet landing with a dull thud on the cracked-concrete ground.

He looked around, probably searching for another Cybertronian. I coughed and pinged him over the broad Decepticon channel, bringing his optics down to me. The incredulity in his posture made me smile.

"I'm Screen. And _you_ are Tailwind," I said, not bothering to conceal my amusement.

"You don't look like one of Soundwave's pets," he said, obviously running a scan over me to make sure I wasn't bluffing.

I rolled my eyes. "_Please._ Do _you_ know the specifics of what we're supposed to do? Soundwave wouldn't tell me anything."

"You and I are to do some spying together," the flier said as he knelt, examining me more closely.

I stood my ground, crossing my arms, examining him as well. His body was a type of jet I was unfamiliar with, but that was unsurprising, considering my knowledge of military matters was gone almost as soon as I retrieved it.

"Then let's get going," I said. "What exactly are we supposed to retrieve, information-wise?"

Tailwind shrugged. "It was a pretty broad order. Although I think the main directive is to push international tensions in this world to the breaking point."

"Corrupted information, misdirected intel, and the like?" I murmured. "Sounds like fun."

Tailwind gave me an incredulous look. "You're _human_, aren't you?"

"Partly," I said with a sigh. "But I belong to Soundwave, and what Soundwave or Megatron orders, I obey."

"Ah," Tailwind said before transforming into his jet form, popping open the entrance to his cockpit. "Sucks for you."

I laughed and jumped into the cockpit, which closed behind me. "How'd you get conned into doing this?"

"I can't _stand_ anyone in my patrol, so when Soundwave approached me with this, I jumped at the chance. I might be able to prove to him that I'm strong and useful enough that I can move out of the Air Strike Patrol and gain some rank."

"Mm-hm," I murmured. _My_ rank might pull some strings, since, even though I belonged to Soundwave, I was _still_ a Prime. My opinion carried weight. Depending on how the mission went, I might be able to increase his chances of moving up in the ranks. "So, are you a Seeker?"

Tailwind scoffed. "No. Thank Primus."

"Then what are you?"

There was a shrug in a voice. "Just a flier. I've heard the word 'micromaster' thrown around, but since I don't know what it means, I don't care—I'm just glad I'm _not_ a _Seeker._" He said the word "Seeker" as one would say "pile-of-ooze."

He took off quickly enough that it pressed me back in the seat, but, thankfully, I can withstand more than most humans can. It seemed to impress the Decepticon I was riding with.

"Where do we start?" Tailwind asked, obviously unhappy to have to do so. He was probably new to the world, so it was up to me to familiarize him.

I paused and thought. I decided that planning out loud wouldn't be a bad thing, since Tailwind needed the information.

"A lot of European countries still don't trust the Germans and creating political unease in that section of the world will be _very_ distracting, since that's where a lot of the 'developed world' is. Even though there's the European Union, splintering that particular alliance would be _incredibly_ profitable, since it would pull attention away from the whole Decepticon and Autobot conflict to something much closer to home. So, if we could cross intel that'd be productive."

I paused for another moment before speaking again: "Another tactic would be to leak Chinese and North Korean intelligence to America and Japan and vice versa. Throwing Russia into the mix wouldn't be bad either, as would stimulating terrorist activity."

I could _feel_ the intrigue coming off of the Decepticon I was with. "You _do_ know that you're trying to hurt your own species."

I sigh. "You know that manipulating Autobot information is messing with _your_ own species, right?"

"Point. So, where do we start?"

It was a good question, and made me think, silence reigning for a long while. Eventually, I came to a decision: "Terrorists."

"Why?"

"They're international."

"Huh. Perhaps you are _meant_ to be a Decepticon."

"It's Soundwave's influence, I promise you," I replied dryly. "I wasn't this smart before he claimed me."

Tailwind snickered and banked, changing direction.

"You scout out activity," I said and leaned back in the seat, closing my eyes. "I'll be watching the information flying about. We'll work on domestic terrorists first before branching out."

"You know, why I am content at being ordered around by you?" he asked, sounding annoyed.

I smirked. "Because I'm a Prime."

"Don't try to pull a fast one, human," he warned.

"I'm _serious_," I answered. "It's another reason why Soundwave claimed me. Now, let me focus."

He grumbled but turned his own sensors outside himself as I concentrated on listening, suppressing my knowledge of his grumblings.

It was difficult, sifting through the myriad of radiation flying around the atmosphere. Television signals, wireless internet, and a billion different phone conversations. Slowly, I put layer upon layer of filters, cutting out mundane conversations and legitimate business dealings, among the broadest filters.

I slowly cut back on government transactions until I was left with only secure channels. I had also sifted through civilian conversations until I had only the ones that were being spoken in code. I ran the code through a thousand data banks until I could listen in on the coded conversations with ease. Some of it was stupid, but there were a few more..._interesting_ ones I stumbled across.

I broke through the secure government channels and listened intently, storing away the information. I turned most of my attention to breaking into e-mail accounts, filtering all the trillions of yahoo, gmail, hotmail, etc. through my mind. I picked up the more interesting ones and re-routed them to the inappropriate recipients, using an untraceable account of my own.

I crossed information between government agencies, leaked secrets to news organizations, and provided fodder and confirmation to conspiracy theorists. I placed virulent viruses, fried delicate systems, and left random destruction in my wake.

When I finally pulled back to myself, it was late by my watch and I tipped my head back to rest on the headrest behind me.

"You were a busy little pet Prime, weren't you?" Tailwind murmured, and I chuckled.

"Oh, it doesn't look like a _really_ bad security breach—it's nothing that'll make them think 'Decepticon!' because it's so _random,_ and since some of the information benefits the government...well."

Tailwind made a sound of understanding.

"How about you?" I asked politely.

There was a shrug in his voice, "I familiarized myself with the layout of this part of the world. I scouted out and analyzed the domestic military bases. They never knew I was there," he finished, slightly smug.

I smirked and closed my eyes. "I need rest. You can land somewhere and recharge yourself or keep on flying—it's up to you."

"Rest sounds good," he replied. I got the feeling that he wasn't quite used to the Terran atmosphere and his newest form, but I was smart enough not to bring it up. He banked and headed somewhere—not that I cared. I had enough food in my bag that if we weren't anywhere near a point of civilization I could survive for three days or so.

Eventually, we landed at a _different_ abandoned air force base and hopped out of his cockpit when it opened. There was, thankfully, a hangar, which I walked into. It was large and drafty, but it provided a little protection from the elements.

"Where are you going, Screen?" Tailwind called out, curious.

"Somewhere I can sleep. I suggest you come in here, too, just in case someone flies over and sees you."

Tailwind taxied into the hangar before shutting down, settling on his shocks. I smirked faintly before I took up a position in a corner, pulling my jacket more securely around me. I closed my eyes and very quickly fell asleep.

–

"You know, you do remarkably good work," Tailwind told me, amusement lacing his voice as I awoke, he in his bipedal form.

I yawned and stretched, slowly standing. "Oh?"

"Your efforts from yesterday seem to have wrecked a lot of damage."

I paused, cocked my head, and tapped into NPR. I listened for a few minutes before a smile slowly spreading across my face. "Yeah, I can do that when I try," I told him.

Now, I probably should have been horrified at myself, but being claimed as Soundwave's changes one's perspective on a number of things—one of them being the morality of certain actions. In the beginning, when I was still getting used to the whole Decepticon thing, I _did_ despise myself for my actions, for my willingness to do whatever Soundwave told me to do. But, when you are praised for doing evil deeds and the approval of Soundwave fills you with a greater pleasure than you can possible _imagine_...well, you change.

I paused and looked at Tailwind, a thought forming in my mind. "Hey, you're good at stealth."

"One of the best—I wouldn't be in my patrol otherwise," came the slightly smug answer.

"How would you like taking down the Washington Monument, Lincoln memorial and Congress?"

Tailwind cocked his head. "Why?"

"They're all national landmarks, symbols of this country. We can get in—I can scramble your spark-signature and communications so no-one knows you're there until too late—do our damage, and then jet out across the Atlantic towards Europe."

Tailwind stroked his chin, obviously thinking. A smirk formed on his face. "Sounds like fun. I don't think it'd be good to take out all three—pick the most recognizable."

"Lincoln memorial, definitely," I say. "Even though taking out Congress would halt all political function, it'd have less..._impact._"

Tailwind nodded, his optics briefly unfocused as he probably brought up a map of what he had scouted out. "Let's do it," he said once he had figured out a route in his head, and folded into his jet form.

I quickly stuffed a granola bar into my mouth and chugged a water bottle before climbing into his cockpit, settling myself. "I'll take care of making sure any sightings of you don't get where they need to be."

Tailwind snorted as he took off. "No-one _will_ see me."

"If you say so," I replied.

Silence fell between us as he flew.

"Just how did you get caught up in all this?" Tailwind eventually asked.

He had managed to refrain from asking for longer than I thought he would. "Long story."

"We've got a ways to go," he replied dryly.

"My great-grandfather was an explorer. He found Megatron stuck in the arctic ice, activated the big bad's navigation system, and the energy released burned directions to the All Spark's location onto my great-grandfather's glasses. Eventually, they came into my possession and I tried to auction them for money on the internet. This made Bumblebee seek me out to protect me until the other 'bots arrived to retrieve the All Spark. This also alerted Barricade to my knowing where the All Spark was. So, I was now a target for the Decepticons and something to be protected by the Autobots. Through a number of events, I met Optimus Prime, Megatron was woken from his millenia of sleep, and I defeated Megatron using the All Spark."

"Wait. _You_ beat _Megatron_?"

"Yeah. Just hold on—it doesn't end there." I took a breath. "Two years later, I find a shard of the All Spark hidden in my sweatshirt. I touch it and the All Spark downloads into my head..."

"So you _also_ have all the knowledge in the All Spark?"

"Well, yeah."

"No wonder Soundwave wanted you."

I snorted. "Yeah. A little. _Anyway_. Megatron was resurrected, and he apparently went to find his master—the Fallen. The Fallen told him to kill Optimus and he _did._ Then the Fallen came here looking for the Solar Harvester. I was searching for the Matrix of Leadership, since that would—_maybe—resurrect_ Optimus. I found the Matrix, it disintegrated in my hand, but I kept it anyway. There was a big battle, I managed to get myself killed, but I was resurrected by the Dynasty of Primes—"

"Wait, _what_?"

"I met the original 13 in the afterlife. They sent me back, saying I was a 'real leader' or some such nonsense. The Matrix solidified in my hand, and I used it to revive Optimus. Optimus then got suped up using Jetfire's parts—he had suicided to give Optimus a boost—and then Optimus took down the Fallen. Megatron and Starscream bolted to recover."

I took a deep breath and let it out in a heavy sigh. "_Then_ I discovered that I was a Prime, since my dreams were haunted by the original 13 explaining how to use the knowledge that the All Spark had given me and figure out just what being a Prime entailed, and the new responsibilities I had acquired."

"An _organic_ Prime...it's unheard of..."

"Yeah, well, most Cybertronians haven't had contact with the Matrix _and_ the All Spark, so..."

"Point. Where'd your spark come into this?"

I shrugged. "At some point I developed one. Soundwave claimed it in its infancy, and everyone accepted it as just a quirk in the radiation, not recognizing it as having been tampered with—afterall, I was a _human_ carrying a _spark; _surely things would be different."

"Screen, you have seen as much in your brief life as any Cybertronian has in our long ones," Tailwind said, amused astonishment coloring his voice.

"Yeah, well. What can I say?"

Silence fell again before the flier spoke: "We're coming up on Washington D.C. Start your scrambling."

I closed my eyes and focused, intercepting any conversation that spoke of Tailwind's appearance and broke it off as well as making him invisible on radar—I knew that the flier probably could do it on his own, but I just wanted to be sure.

I felt him deploy his weapons, and a few seconds later he fired off two shots before changing direction and accelerating. I couldn't help but smirk as I heard the impact from the missiles, but kept up my interference until we were over international waters.

"That was fun," Tailwind said when I came back to myself. "Can we do more of that?"

I laughed. "Sure. Why not? We do espionage and scouting and wreck havoc on intel before picking a landmark to bring down."

Tailwind slowed to a more comfortable pace. "I think I'm going to enjoy being on this planet."

I chuckled. "I'm sure. You'll just have to be careful when I'm not around—don't want you getting in trouble."

Tailwind scoffed at me, but I simply smirked and leaned back in the seat.

"It won't take long to get to Europe—is that what it's called?"

"Yeah. We'll start with continental Europe, just to give the English—who are one of America's allies—a false sense of security."

"You know, you must've picked up a lot from Soundwave."

"You have no idea," I murmured. "To make sure that I got over all my silly human morals, he kept me with him, as a part of him, overwriting all my previous beliefs, encoding new programs and routines to make me absolutely his. I lost my _humanity_ even though I'm _physically_ still, in part, human."

Tailwind made a 'hm' sound before falling quiet. "You are a very interesting creature, Screen."

"Thank you?"

Tailwind laughed and increased his altitude. "Get ready. We'll be there in...ah...this planet has such an odd time-keeping system. 30 minutes."

I nodded. "Half an hour. Fine. Wake me up then," I said and leaned back, closing my eyes to catch a brief nap.

–

"Alright, I understand what you meant about possibly getting in trouble," Tailwind said tightly as I examined his injuries.

None of them were too bad, but it would take a few days for his internal systems to repair them entirely. That meant that we were going to be grounded briefly, and I was out of food.

It had been difficult, but we had found a place to hide—people wouldn't think to look for us in a suburban area, and as long as I left a small scrambling device with him, no-one would be able to locate him using his spark-signature.

"Just go into recharge. I'll make sure no-one finds you," I murmured to him, running my hands over his singed wings. He winced, but did as told.

I waited until he was in recharge before I took out a device from my backpack and attached it on his airframe close to his spark. There was a small pulse of energy that washed over him, and when I searched for his spark-signature I was unable to find it. It had taken _ages_ to figure out how to make that, and it leaves me vulnerable—I can suppress my spark-signature, but normal people can feel that I'm slightly..._different._

I was out of food and water, so I needed to take a pit stop in the main street of the town. Still, it was Spain, and therefore outside of my immediate experience. I changed my face to a common one and, after listening for a while as I walked down the street, learned continental Spanish through conversation and the internet. Best not to stick out.

I took out my wallet and sighed.

American currency. Damnit.

I put it back in my wallet and looked around for a bank. I didn't think I'd be able to exchange my currency, but I'd probably be able to hack an ATM—if there was one. I growled inwardly and ran a hand through my hair. This sucked.

I looked around and saw a man walking by with his wallet sticking temptingly out of his back pocket. I looked away quickly and thought. I had picked pockets before. It wasn't difficult. But this seemed _too_ easy.

So I ignored the man who walked by, but caught the smallest glimmer of something else hiding in his jacket.

Police. No, what were they called in Spain? It didn't matter.

I was still without money.

I ended up withdrawing some money from my account (I _do_ need money, and a few covert robberies and internet identity theft brings in the cash) I had in the US using an international ATM, and placed the bills in my pocket. _Now_ to get food and water and stuff.

I found what I assumed to be a supermarket of some sort, quickly walked through it to pick out non-perishable food items and some stuff to drink, paid for them, stuffed them in my bag, and started walking back to where I had left Tailwind.

_That_ caused my mind to drift back to why we were hiding in a suburb of Madrid.

We had done a successful sweep of most of continental Europe, leaving governments scrambling, but we were sighted by one military or another, and had to do some fancy flying to get away. Tailwind's frame wasn't meant for really quick accelerations, so he had tiny fractures on his body from that. He had managed to bring down all our pursuers, but not without damage done to himself.

_Perhaps there is a reason fliers work in teams for the most part,_ I thought idly and readjusted my pack. I stopped walking and looked behind me, turning my body at a sound.

_Ah, shit._

I was being followed. Someone must've seen me walk out from where Tailwind had landed, regardless of my efforts at scrambling communications and Tailwind's natural stealth capabilities.

So I started walking towards the people who were tailing me, my hand tightening on the strap of my backpack. The people tailing me couldn't extrapolate where I would have headed, since I was still in a residential district, and it was a one-way street, those trailing me in the car had to either exit the car and confront me directly or continue moving on.

Eventually, one person stepped out of the passenger side while the driver kept on going.

_Sneaky,_ I thought with a sigh. I kept on walking, but a hand darted out and caught my elbow. I looked over at the person, pretending to be puzzled. "Yes?" I asked, my voice the perfect imitation of the general accent.

The man took took out a badge and flipped it open—Interpol.

_Well, damn,_ I thought ruefully. "Is there something I can help you with?" I asked politely.

"If you could come with me," the agent replied equally politely.

"Sorry, but I can't," I said calmly before executing a perfect martial arts move and activating my cloaking mechanism, moving quietly and quickly against a building, stopping my breathing.

The agent recovered fairly quickly and swore softly, looking around for me. He said something into a transmitter in his ear and walked towards where I saw a car pull up. I followed silently and attached myself to the roof of the car—the windows were down, so I was able to get a decent grip.

It also let me listen in on their conversation and give me the opportunity to do what I do best. What'd be better than infiltrating Interpol? I'd gain 10 levels in awesome.

Alas, I also had to stay with Tailwind, so I couldn't stray too far. I didn't have too much to worry about, though, considering I had bugged the agent when I threw him. I added a bug to the car, just for extra intel and then grabbed the edge of an overpass they drove under before dropping to the ground once they were out of sight.

It was interesting, dodging traffic, but I'm not espionage for nothing. I got to the shoulder and it took surprisingly little time for me to hit an off-ramp that would take me towards where I wanted to go. I kept my cloaking device up as I walked, taking my time. My body still left indents and reacted to the surroundings, so I couldn't go too quickly lest people inspect where I was more closely.

It took me a while, but I eventually got back to our hiding spot, nearly wilting in relief when I saw my temporary partner still there in recharge. It meant that no-one had found him in my absence. It was only once I had checked for anyone spying on us that I dropped my cloak.

I sighed and sat down in a corner of our current hideout, readjusting my sweatshirt. I decided that I would find places like this all over the world and stash supplies and clothes, if just so I don't have to risk my cover by going out like I had _every _time.

I closed my eyes, but was unable to fall asleep. I suppose I was jumpy because we were in a more inhabited area, and finding a large jet in a seemingly abandoned place would probably be a bad thing. Sure, we would be able to get away easy once Tailwind was up and running again, but until then, all I could do was wait.

Wait and listen in on the conversations my bugged Interpol agent was having.

I closed my eyes and settled myself comfortably, turning my attention to my job.


	3. Confrontation

**Author**: Another chapter! Whooo....Just want to take moment to thank everyone who read, reviews, faovrites, alerts, whatever. You guys give me warm fuzzies.

**Disclaimer**: Nope.

---

My eyes opened and I stretched, having felt Tailwind start to wake. I stood and walked over to him, and turned off the spark-dampener before he had woke fully—I knew he wouldn't appreciate his signature being scrambled with while he was awake.

He finally came entirely online with a groan as I examined his body. He had healed somewhat, but we would probably be grounded for another day.

"How're you feeling, Tailwind?" I asked.

"Awful," the flier replied grumpily.

I patted him in fake sympathy and walked away. "How much longer do you think it'll take for you to heal?"

Tailwind obviously took a moment to run an internal scan before he said "Half a day?"

"Is that 'when I'll be fly-able' or 'when I'll be healed'?"

"They mean the same thing," Tailwind asserted.

I rolled my eyes. "Sure, whatever." I stood and cracked my back. "Go back into recharge. I'll take a look around just to make sure we're not in trouble. You might have to fly sooner. I'll wake you if that's the case."

Tailwind grumbled a little, but I knew when he went back into recharge. I turned on the spark-signature scrambler again and walked towards the entrance. I closed my eyes and _listened._

It was all idiotic conversations, mundane things...ah. For the most part.

There was an underlying conversation, heavily encoded, but nothing that I couldn't bust wide open. I shifted on my feet, unhappy. Interpol was on our trail, and knew what _Tailwind_ was, and so were in contact with the 'bots. I _really_ wasn't ready to confront them yet. So I settled myself and completely scrambled the signal, bouncing falsified answers to both that were convincing enough and said in the same voice that no-one questioned the authenticity.

I'm good at what I do.

Still...we were facing a problem.

I opened my eyes and looked at the Decepticon sitting silently across from me. With a sigh I stood and cracked my back before pinging my master. I received confirmation before sending a wordless inquiry to him—I needed Tailwind's specs and some rudimentary knowledge of how to repair him so we could get off the ground faster.

After the smallest pause the information came back to me, and I pinged gratitude before cutting the connection.

I suppose that's one thing that's advantageous about being almost _part_ of Soundwave—sometimes, hell, _most_ of the time—words aren't necessary.

I look around and find some things I could use as rudimentary tools before walking over to Tailwind and examining him critically. There were some places that needed just a little patching up, while others needed severe repairs—the kind that I couldn't do, but which Mikaela...

My face tightened in pain and I shook the memories away, my hands remaining steady the entire time. She was no longer a part of my life. I hadn't seen her in years. She had no doubt moved on, found someone else. Maybe she was still on the base, perhaps she had forsaken the Autobots.

Curious, I looked her up on the internet.

There was almost nothing about her, which meant she was still on base with the Autobots. I found out that there had been a funeral for me, just for closure for my parents. I was a hailed a hero. It made my heart ache.

I was caught in nostalgia and ended up looking up everything about the people who had populated my old life as I worked on Tailwind. By the time I finished my trip down memory lane, I had done some extensive surface repairs on the flier. I listened in on the Interpol conversation and tensed. I took the spark-scrambler off and woke Tailwind.

"Hurry! Interpol is coming for us!"

"Who?"

"People with Autobot connections."

Tailwind popped open his cab and made a surprised sound. "You did repairs."

"I take care of my partners." Oh, the double entrandre.

Tailwind powered up and I began my jamming sequence. He blasted—literally—out of where we had been hiding and took to the sky. The human military had taken his being a jet into account, as there were fliers there as well—Autobot ones.

"Fragging 'bots," Tailwind snarled. "I _hate_ their fliers! Can you do anything to help, Screen?"

"Give me a moment!" I snarled. I took a deep breath, forming a quick plan.

First things first—alert Soundwave. Back-up would be nice, and it's not beneath _me_ to ask, although the flier I was with would probably rather _die_ than ask for help. Stupid pride.

I sent a wordless thought/request to Soundwave, who, after a pause, responded with the affirmative. He would send Decepticon backup. Of the Seeker or _other_ kind, I was unsure. I was pretty sure Tailwind would be mortified if the others in his squad came to his aid, so I pinged that question, which was answered in the negative. The others were busy on their own missions. We would be getting Starscream's group. That was probably even worse. Definitely for me, anyway.

Now to scramble communications.

That promised to be difficult, with how Tailwind was flying. The curses he was using were inventive, and I filed them away for later use.

Still, I couldn't concentrate, and I knew he needed to transform to fight better.

"Drop me."

"What?" Tailwind half-exclaimed.

"Drop me over an Autobot! I'll disable them, and it'll give me intimate access to their communication systems. Not to mention allowing you to fight."

"Smart little pet, aren't you?" Tailwind murmured. "Here we go!"

Tailwind made a number of moves that should've been impossible for a jet to make before turning upside down, the hatch opening simultaneously. I free-fell for what felt like forever before I landed on an Autobot flier.

Thankfully, my weight is no different than a normal human's, so it was barely registered, especially when a Cybertronian is in fight mode.

I should know. I was _almost_ successful in taking Skywarp out this _one time..._

But that's unimportant.

I maneuvered so I was clinging to chinks in armor, and through an effort of will, more or less short-circuited the flier's systems with the lightest touch on his wiring. It also gave me brief access to the Autobot frequencies, which I memorized. They'd _definitely_ come in handy.

While I was falling with the baffled and panicky Autobot, I moved and, through a really big effort of strength, managed to do the equivalent of snapping the flier's neck by yanking out some delicate and important wiring hidden by plates of armor that anything larger would never be able to reach through.

I could _feel_ when he died. Do you know how _disturbing_ that is? It's why I usually refrain from fighting. Much easier to let other people do the killing for you.

I scrambled across the fallen Autobot's body and looked around, the wind whistling past my ears, making my eyes water, my clothes snapping in the wind and flattening against my body.

It's a terrifying sight, seeing another flier coming straight at you for killing who might have possibly been their mate.

Thankfully, a familiar form dropped out of the sky and landed on the approaching flier, ripping a wing off, sending him spiraling downwards. Tailwind flew over to me and I jumped into a waiting hand, clinging to the large fingers carefully.

The Decepticon flier fired off a few shots which, while missing their mark, were distracting.

Although the arrival of back-up was even more distracting.

**Why don't we get out of here?** I offered to him, only able to speak over a private channel since I was in contact with him.

Tailwind was briefly surprised before smirking, looking over his shoulder at Starscream's trine. **Let's do it.**

Oh, there are times I'm so glad I'm a Decepticon. An Autobot would have gone, "No! I have to stay to help my comrades!" Not a Decepticon. Other people around to take the damage for you? Fine. Time to leave.

I was tossed in the air briefly before falling into Tailwind's waiting cockpit, the hatch closing over me.

I braced myself as he activated his cloaking capabilities, flying up into the stratosphere and away, keeping in the calmer air layer.

I sighed and closed my eyes. "I'm gonna listen in on the Autobots."

"You can _do_ that?"

"Now that I know their frequencies, I can," I mumbled and turned outwards, finding the encrypted channels.

It was difficult, but I eventually grew used to the Autobot dialect.

Of course, they were talking about me.

**How'd he go down? There were no Seekers near him!**

**That one wasn't a Seeker—just an airborne menace. I didn't recognize him.**

**Probably some kind of espionage. **

_**How'd he down Sky High?**_

**I don't know!**

There was an unhappy pause before I could almost _hear_ the ding of a thought popping up.

**I think someone was accompanying the flier.**

**They would've had to be small. I don't know of **_**any**_** flier who would take someone on willingly.**

**Barricade and Blackout both worked with smaller mechs than themselves.**

**Still, it didn't **_**feel**_** like a Cybertronian.**

**Tread Bolt, are you tracking the flier?**

There was a brief pause before an affirmative was pinged back.

_That_ caused me to come back to my senses and throw them out for a different purpose. When I swore using many of the same inventive expletives that my airborne partner had used, I got a questioning sound.

"We have an Autobot flier after us. Tread Bolt."

"What?! I don't sense him at all."

"A stealth flier to track a stealth flier," I murmured before placing my hands delicately on the controls before me. After a moment, I found his sensors and augmented them with my own, which caused him to jolt in surprise.

Before using a number of other swears that I filed away for later perusal.

"I need to maintain contact to keep my sensors with yours. But I _would_ like to escape from the Autobot."

Straps flowed over me and bound me to my spot so I couldn't move. "Get ready, Screen."

I braced myself, but wasn't prepared at _all_ for the fancy flying Tailwind pulled. That he braked first and let the faster Autobot flier scream past him was a surprise. When one of his shots made contact with Tread Bolt, it obviously surprised the Autobot, causing his cloaking to fall momentarily.

It was long enough for me to get a steady lock on him.

The fight became a game of cat-and-mouse, each vanishing—or attempting to vanish—from detection while trying to keep the other from doing the same. Eventually, I simply closed my eyes and trusted Tailwind to know what he was doing.

I detected an Autobot distress signal coming from Tailwind's opponent and quickly set about intercepting it, keeping it from reaching its intended recipient, whomever that may be.

"Tailwind," I said tightly, all of my efforts wearing me thin. I couldn't keep up much longer without passing out. Endurance is one of my strong-points, but I can only do so much for so long.

Tailwind executed a maneuver that left my head spinning and my stomach in my heels, and in the background I heard an unhappy wail from our pursuer. Tailwind vamoosed quickly, his radar cloaking, along with my addition of visual, making him invisible to all detection.

Eventually, after _far_ too long, Tailwind's straps loosened and pulled away, allowing me to let go and lean back in the seat.

"Let's not do that again," I muttered, keeping up my visual cloaking but letting all other sensors rest.

Tailwind chuckled. "Seconded. I say we find some place to rest before continuing our mission."

"Mmm..." I murmured before falling asleep.

–

I woke with a back-ache and a pounding headache, which made me groan and grimace in pain.

_Perhaps multitasking like that was a bad idea._

"You're awake?"

I blinked blearily and smiled faintly as the voice registered as both familiar and not threatening. "Yeah. You get any recharge time?"

"Yeah," Tailwind replied. "We're in a safe enough place."

I sat up further and looked around. "I'm surprised that you actually chose a cave. Where _are_ we anyway?"

"Somewhere in Mongolia," Tailwind supplied.

I made a sound of understanding before pushing up on the hatch gently, which was opened for me. I stepped out and Tailwind transformed immediately, wincing.

"How badly are you hurt?" I asked, surprised at the concern in my voice. Was a _flier_ actually growing on me? Horror of horrors!

"Not too badly. That Autobot flier got it worse than I did." Tailwind looked at me. "Which is because of you."

I shifted on my feet, inexplicably embarrassed. I suppose it was because the only praise I'd ever received was from Soundwave. "Well, if you went down, I did too. It was only prudent," I muttered.

"Of course," Tailwind replied, the smallest smirk in his voice.

I rolled my eyes and wandered a little away, reaching out for my Master.

He connected with me almost instantaneously, which made me shiver. There was a transfer of memory-data, and I slipped in a request that Tailwind be considered for promotion, or at least to be moved out of the Air Strike Patrol...or take it over. Any advancement would be appreciated.

There was a "I'll consider it" feeling from Soundwave before it broke off, making me sigh.

"It's incredibly strange to see an organic's eyes glow red," Tailwind commented, obviously intrigued. "Why?"

"I contacted my Master," I said with a small, satiated smile. "Told him where we are, what happened, thanked him for the backup, etc."

"_You_ called for Screamer's trine?" Tailwind half-exclaimed.

"Hey, don't bitch."

Tailwind huffed and shook his head, which made him wince.

"You need to see a medic, doncha?" I said, cocking my head to the side. "I can patch up the little things, but..."

"Just need more rest," Tailwind said gruffly, although there was a undertone of pain to his voice.

I nodded slowly. "Do that. I'll keep watch."

He grumbled, but eventually folded back into jet form and, as far as I could tell, passed out.

I walked to the mouth of the cave and looked around from the safety of the shadows.

There was _nothing_ for miles around. Either on the ground or in the sky—very few satellites made their way over this particular part of the Earth that were of much use.

That didn't mean there weren't government spy satellites wandering around for me to tap into—the only thing was that Soundwave was exponentially better than I at it, so I was responsible for all the communications satellites (phone, satellite TV, etc.). There was _a lot_ of crap to sift through, and as Soundwave had better things to do than listen to humans talk at each other, it got delegated to me.

Have I mentioned that I get bored very easily?

I began pacing the width of the cave, and then went exploring into its recesses, always keeping an ear out for Tailwind or someone else approaching. My sensors were trained very hard on detecting Autobot frequencies, and there was _no_ stealthy 'bot that would be able to get by _me_. Not unless they somehow learned to dampen their spark-signatures, which I had discovered most were wont to do. I had someone explain it to me as their spark-signature proclaims _who they are_ and to do suppress that would be like denying who they were. I never had any problem with it, since my identity was fluid—organic and not.

I felt one—no, _three—_Autobot fliers approaching. I quickly ran to Tailwind and, placing a hand on him, dampened his spark signature, while also projecting a false one about...oh, a mile, two miles, away. I felt them turn towards that and once I was sure they were chasing ghosts I dropped the signal, focusing on maintaining our safety.

I _really_ dislike the prospect of dying—once was more than enough. The only problem with being a Decepticon is that you're _constantly_ tense, since the attack could come from either your frenemies or foes. It's _exhausting_. I was keeping track of both Autobot and Decepticon channels, even when the lines became heavily encrypted.

Hey, I take my intel job _very_ seriously and you'd be surprised at what you could learn when sentients speak candidly. I had diffused a number of Starscream's plans against Megatron that way.

Trust me, I prefer Megatron over Starscream not only because that is my Master's preference, but also because I can't _stand_ the Seeker.

After the three Autobot fliers had faded into the aether, I was left alone with my thoughts and a heavily injured Tailwind.

Well, not _entirely_ alone. Soundwave is always with me. When all else falls, returning to being a part of him is a way to pass the time. I set up a few precuations that I continually carried with me to make sure that we were invisible to detection before sitting down against a wall and closing my eyes.

I guess what I'm about to describe might be considered gratuitous, but, really, in order to _understand_ my motivations, my continued desire to remain with Soundwave, it's necessary.

Nonetheless, you could theoretically skip this section without affecting the plot of the story I am weaving.

Anyway.

As my eyes closed I sought out the connection that I have with Soundwave and let myself focus on it, lose myself in it. I felt him recognize my presence and link me to the part reserved for my consciousness and spark, enveloping me in a deep, penetrating feeling of _safety_ and _home_.

But, more than that, there was a feeling of _belonging_. It sent shivers of pleasure through me, stealing my breath away. Being so close to someone, being so intimiately connected to the point of being a _part_ of them...Soundwave knows the effect it has on me and regards it with a detached amusement. He knows that the feeling I was experiencing would keep me with him, no matter how tempting it would be to turn and try to forsake him.

Pleasure is the best way to hook someone and keep them by your side. If you—and _only_ you—can make someone feel more alive, more _real_, that person will never want to leave you. It was that way with Soundwave and I. I was addicted and more than content to do what I was ordered just to feel the _ecstasy_ from being intwined with my Master.

I didn't know if the others felt the same way, and didn't care. A loss for them if they didn't enjoy being with Soundwave as much as I did.

I let my will go, allowed my Self to fade into Soundwave, resting and gathering my strained resources.

Three days later, Tailwind was ready to take to the skies again. I was unsure as to the prudence of that decision, but it wasn't mine to make. Fliers are a proud breed of Cybertronian, and hell if I tell him that the gouge on his side looks nasty, maybe he should let it heal for another day.

"We're going to make a quick run over Asia, then I want you to drop me off in the States. The 'bots will know your face and make by now, so you won't be safe, even with your superior stealth capabilities."

Tailwind did not seem pleased by this. "I'm planning on seeing if I can be assigned to this place. It is...more interesting than other planets I've been sent to."

I smiled faintly. I think _I_ was growing on the flier, if only because I was _incredibly_ useful to him. "You still need to see a medic," I pointed out. "Drop me off, then go get yourself looked at, m'kay?"

Tailwind gave me the _dirtiest_ look, which I simply smirked at.

"If I need to, I can make that an _order_ and there will be nothing you can do except follow it."

"What? Why?"

"I'm a _Prime_," I drawled. "It commands a certain respect, and comes with a few perks. Admittedly, Optimus doesn't _use_ most of them because he's an _Autobot..._"

"Those did happen to be your teammates at one point."

"Tailwind, I'm a _Decepticon_. I'm a _part of Soundwave._ My opinion has changed."

Tailwind gave me a considering look before nodding, a vicious smile forming on his face. "I understand. Now, let's get back to work."

I smirked faintly as he transformed back into his jet mode and hopped in once he was finished. He taxied to the outside and took off, I prepared for the vicious acceleration this time. We entered the air and he cloaked himself from electronic detection as I extended my visual cloaking to him.

"What'd you do?" he asked me, sounding faintly nervous as he detected my sensory overlay.

"I have a visual cloak. I've extended it to you," I told him.

"I see," he said slowly. "That must come in handy."

"Hey, not all of us espionage can be big fighter jets capable of defending themselves with weapons."

Tailwind laughed.

The flight was in comfortable silence, I having to briefly learn Chinese, Korean, Japanese, and Russian to be able to cross metaphorical wires. Tailwind was more careful this time, flying at a slower speed higher up. Tailwind could, apparently, go up pretty high, almost to the thermosphere. _That_ is impressive.

We cruised along before I got a ping from my Master, causing me to sit up straighter.

**Yes?** I asked almost eagerly.

Soundwave sent me a packet of information before disconnecting, leaving me to sift through what he had given me while also paying half-attention to the information flying around me.

I could feel Tailwind beginning to falter and said, "Why don't we find someplace to land? You've been pushing yourself for the last half hour. We don't need you to be hurt anymore than you already are."

"I'm _fine_," Tailwind growled.

I placed my hands on his controls and brought up all of his diagnostics, showing him that he _wasn't_ fine. At all.

Stupid fliers.

"There's a Decepticon base not too far from here," I said and showed him the coordinates. "It's still under construction, but it's safe for you. Lots of dampening systems."

Tailwind made an annoyed sound of acknowledgement.

It took us an hour, but we eventually got to the base, I sending the code to drop the safeguards, allowing Tailwind a safe landing. I hopped out and ran a hand along Tailwind, pulling away all my sensors and returning them to my self. "I'll see you around, 'wind. Hopefully we will end up working together again," I said casually as I walked away from the hangar.

The flier didn't both to grace me with a response, as I had used a nickname, but I didn't care. My latest mission was bothering me unnecessarily.

I suppose it was to be the true test of whether or not I had left my life as Sam Witwicky behind.

My mission was to infiltrate one of the Autobots' bases. Yes, _bases_. Plural. They weren't afforded the luxury of having only one base anymore—not with how well-informed and coordinated the Decepticons had become. The bases were scattered about the world, but the closest and largest was still Diego Garcia. Nonetheless, that would be incredibly difficult to infiltrate, considering that it already _had_ been by the Insecticons and Ravage. I would need to go after a different one if I wanted to be successful.

I paused, going through the information I had been given and sighed heavily. There was no choice—it _had_ to be Diego Garcia.

I ran a hand through my hair and sighed, my feet taking me away from the 'con base and out into the rest of the continent. It was _such_ an insult that the Decepticons were able to have a base _in_ the United States without anyone noticing. Then again, since I and my Master had a hand in its development, it was the most secure and well-hidden place possible.

My feet kicked up dust puffs as I walked along, drought having plagued the plains states for the past few years. There were still people who clung to their farms, but as the water crisis was escalating, many moved out in favor of the more economical option of indoor farming. Water could simply be continually recycled, the climate could be controlled, quality was assured...there was really no downside except the lack of need for human labor.

It had been a benefit of the technology I leaked from the Cybertronians.

What? It's still _my_ _planet_. I don't want to see it _all_ get shot to hell.

The sky was crystalline blue above me, the distant roar of jet engines above me making my skin crawl. Thankfully, I knew the difference between a Cybertronian jet engine and a human jet engine—both military and civilian, and could tell that whoever was up there wasn't looking for me.

As I walked, I thought and planned.

The sea-faring Decepticons were spotty at best—most didn't like me. They'd risk Soundwave's wrath as long as they got rid of me. The fliers—the _spies—_had a little more respect for me, as could be evidenced by being caught by Tailwind when he could've let me plummet and die. So, I would have to be caught somewhere near a different Autobot base and prove dangerous enough to capture but not _kill_.

Now _that_ would be the hard part. For the most part—for _both_ sides—it was see-enemy-kill-it. What would I do that would make them _capture_ me but not _kill_ me?

My stride hitched as an idea dawned on me. The 'bots were all about redeeming the lost. My spark-signature was still _Sam_, even though the Decepticon flavour betrayed my allegiance. A smile slowly spread across my face.

Yes. Yes, that would work quite nicely.

Scenario: Through "ineptitude" I get chased down and cornered. The hope is that it's Ratchet, Bumblebee, Optimus, or Jolt who find me, since _they_ are the ones familiar with my spark-signature. Everyone else would find it..._odd_...but wouldn't look too far beyond that. However, those four would hesitate, especially if I wore my original appearance. It's impossible to change one's base spark-signature, even though overtones can be added—such as my Soundwave claim and Decepticon allegiance, but there's always a part that remains solidly _SAM._ Or Screen. Or whatever I decide to call myself.

So. Get caught snooping by one of them and I won't be shot on sight. Will they capture me? There's always the possibility that they'll kill me anyway for daring to imitate Sam in such a warped manner. Ratchet would know otherwise, though. He knows it's impossible to duplicate spark-signatures down to the minutia. Hmm...not the best plan, but how else would I get captured, _not_ killed, and get to Diego Garcia? Infiltration by any normal means would be a _pain_ and mostly impossible. I could imagine that the security checkpoints they had were _paranoid_. Especially with Red Alert about.

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, kicking a rock at my feet. Which base to get caught at, then? I kept an idle ear to the conversations flying around me before a smirk formed on my face. Perhaps I wouldn't even have to work that hard...


End file.
